


A Bad Day To Be Moral

by GingerPuddin_Jerome, RigorMorton



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Daddy Kink, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feels, Fight Sex, First Crush, First Time, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hate Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Older Man/Younger Man, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex In A Hospital Bed, Spanking, Strangulation, Suicide Attempt, Violent Sex, Virgin Jerome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerPuddin_Jerome/pseuds/GingerPuddin_Jerome, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigorMorton/pseuds/RigorMorton
Summary: A Gotham AU (sorta), where Jim ends up rescuing Jerome from his fall, much to the maniac's chagrin.While in the hospital recovering from his gunshot wounds, Jerome has time to reflect on what happened, and why Jim Gordon would risk his own life to rescue him.Nobody's ever cared about Jerome's well being, and the thought of anyone doing this for him, leaves him reeling.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was an RP session I did with GingerPuddin_Jerome. I was Jim and Ginger was Jerome. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this.

Cackles and the sound of Jerome's feet pattering against the concrete steps reverberate throughout the dim and otherwise quiet stairwell. 

He’s clinging to his shoulder, desperately trying to reach the top of the stairwell to access the roof. He’s given the signal just moments ago to the hypnotized pilot. He wouldn’t want to miss the grand finale.

Jerome pushes the door open and bolts through the clothes hanging from the clothes lines to dry. Odd. The only indication of him having been in the stairwell just moments before is a trail of tiny blood droplets. 

He smirks as he sees the blimp approaching from the distance. So close. He steps up on to the ledge and watches while waiting for the detective to show up. If he knows James Gordon, then he’s right on his heels.

Jim is having a hard time keeping up with the spry, maniacal teen. He desperately wants to stop for just a moment. Just to catch his breath - his lungs aching and the back of his thighs burning. The detective's not getting any younger and he's apparently no match for this staircase. 

Despite his exhaustion, he continues his pursuit. He has to. The entire city depends on it.

He can see the light shining through the doorway. A few more stomps and he feels the sunlight beaming down on his sweaty face. 

Jim squints his eyes raising his gun, as he runs toward Jerome standing on the ledge.

"It's over Jerome." He shouts, still panting. "Hands up."

Jerome smirks and peels his eyes away from the fast approaching blimp in order to face the detective. “Beautiful, isn’t she? Just give me a second.” 

He grunts as he stares up at the blimp with a winning smile on his face. “Got to call the pilot.” He raises the phone and flips it open, smirking at Jimbo. “Tell him he’s in position.”

He laughs in a raspy tone as he presses the speed dial button.

Jim let's out a sigh. He knows what he has to do. He wishes this kid didn't bring out the worst in him. 

He aims for the kid's lower arm and fires his gun, gritting his teeth. 

The bullet hits Jerome’s hand and ricochets into the phone, allowing it to slip right from his grasp. Ow!” He glares at Jim but can’t help but find this whole ordeal entertaining. “Not cool.” 

His name rings through the receiver and he’s delighted to hear the pilot is in the perfect position. He smirks up at the blimp. “It doesn’t matter.” He eyes the detective vindictively. “Too late anyway.”

He cackles. “Bombs away!”

Jim's face falls. What's only a matter of mere seconds, feels like slow ticking minutes. The moral detective hates using deadly force. Especially on someone Jerome's age. Despite all the horrible things he's done, he's still just a kid. An abuse victim no less. But there's no other way.

He aims the gun at Jerome's chest and fires, squeezing his eyes shut.

Time stands still, momentarily. Jerome gasps breathlessly as the bullet enters his sternum. He holds his hands out to his sides and stares down at the fresh wound seeping blood. He lets out a raspy laugh. “Funny.” He drifts backwards, ready to let himself effortlessly fall to his impending death below.

Jim stills for a moment - his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. He listens for impact but here's nothing. His breath hitches and he runs over to the ledge, looking down to find Jerome dangling from a metal pole sticking out of the side of the building. He secretly sighs in relief a little. 

Jerome dangles from the metal pipe by his right elbow. He stares up at Jim as he comes into view, peering over the ledge. “Quite the dilemma, Jim. Ya gonna let me fall and die? Ah!” He grunts and grabs onto the pipe with his left hand.

He’s never been the strongest physically or technically speaking for fights. “Or, are ya gonna pull me up and arrest me?” He chuckles.

“What’s it gonna be?” He holds out his left hand, seemingly for the detective to take. “Lawman,” He squints with the effort to hang on. “Or murderer?”

Of course Jim reaches his hand out to Jerome. It's bittersweet. A part of him would feel relief if Jerome was gone forever. The other part would beat himself up for it. A conscience can sometimes be a curse.

Jerome waits and when Jim's hand extends to help him, he allows his own to drop and dangle. He laughs, mockingly, before gripping the pipe with his bloody gloved hands. “Good ol’ Gordon. Always playing by the rules.” He snickers.

“That’s why I’ll outlive you. That’s why I’m loved because I don’t give a damn about the rules.”

"It's a long way down." Jim smirks. "You sure you'll outlive me?"

“Oh, I’m sure!” Jerome replies confidently. “‘Cos I’m more than a man. I’m an idea, a philosophy. And, I will live on within the shadows of Gotham’s discontent.”

He grunts as his fingers begin to slip. He’s barely hanging on by a metaphorical thread at this point. If you’re gonna go, then go out with a bang and a smile on your face. “You’ll be seeing me soon. Au revoir.”

"Not today, kid." Jim grunts, scooting himself further over the ledge to reach Jerome. He manages to grab the teen by the wrist before he can fall. The kid is heavier than he looks, and Jim might just be in over his head. He still has to try. 

The detective tightens his grip, hoping Jerome won't put up a fight.

Jerome, of course, puts up a fight. He struggles against the detectives grip. It’s not that he wants to die but it’s part of the plan. He won’t allow Jimbo to foil anymore of those. “You are insufferable.” He bites at Jim, clearly furious with the situation he has found himself in. 

He giggles when he hears someone else on the roof, but groans and rolls his eyes upon hearing Bullock. “Jim!” the other detective rushes over and grabs his partner's legs as they’re beginning to slip over, no thanks to Jerome being a menace.

Jim pants out a small chuckle when he hears Harvey's voice. He gets to foil Jerome's plan, and not die. It's a good day.

The hard brick pressing into him, kills his already sore stomach, as he's dragged back up over the ledge. He tightens his grip on Jerome's wrist, able to use both hands now with Harvey's help.

“No!” Jerome flails about and tries kicking his feet against the side of the building to no avail. Harvey is quickly growing frustrated with it and has to fight the urge to just drop the kid. If it didn’t mean dropping his partner too, then he would have done it in a heartbeat. “Let me go! Ooh! You’re gonna regret this! You’re failing Gotham when the city needs you the most!”

Jim grunts, as he struggles to hold on to Jerome. He doesn't have to keep it up for very long. Once his feet are on the roof top, he helps Harvey pull, and despite all his efforts, Jerome comes right over with him.

The detective doesn't even have time to catch his breath. He immediately tackles the kid to the ground, landing on top of him with a grunt.

He sits up on his knees, pushing Jerome's face into the concrete. "Shut up." He barks, flinging the handcuffs around Jerome's wrists.

Jerome grunts as he is pulled over the ledge despite his best efforts to prevent that from happening. He falls to the ground, knees first. He immediately decides to make a run for it. He goes to push himself up only to be tackled down on his stomach by you. 

“Ow!” It knocks the wind out of him but doesn’t deter him. Pain doesn’t bother him anymore. He glances up and sees the door, urging him to continue his struggle. It’s useless once his face is pushed into the cold, stinging concrete, scraping the scarring and his wrists are quickly cuffed. 

He lays there in a pent up rage and stares blankly out at the scenic view of Gotham. “You still haven’t stopped my gas from deploying. How do ya think you’re gonna do that, Jimbo hmmm?”

Jim leans his head back, catching his breath. His whole body aches. He can only imagine the bruises that will have his body covered by tomorrow morning. It was all worth it though.

He chuckles at Jerome's question. "I had a little conversation with Penguin right before this. If all goes as planned, he should have your pilot knocked out on the floor by now. And if not, then I guess we go crazy together." He grins, giving the kid a condescending pat on the back. He always was a cocky one.

Jerome’s face says it all. He’s angry, upset; betrayed even. Yet, despite all that, he finds it equally as funny. He laughs. “I knew Oswald was just as much a snake as you. But even I have to admit that this is shocking.” He smirks, seemingly unbothered. He plays the part well.

Jim shakes his head, chuckling. This kid is really something else. Sometimes the detective questions if Jerome Valeska is even real.

He winces, getting himself back up to his feet. His legs are almost like noodles. He chooses not to reply to Jerome, and gives Harvey the nod to take him away.

A little part of him already regrets not letting the little shit fall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim pays Jerome a visit in the hospital and a physical fight insues, quickly turning into something neither of them expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are ready for some good ole Gorleska hate sex.

Jerome wakes up to bright lights instead of darkness. He feels out of it; almost like he has been medicated. He more than likely has. He vaguely remembers putting up a fight once he arrived at the hospital.

He groans as he carefully situates himself in the bed to achieve a more comfortable position. He lolls his head to the side and smirks as he replays the events of earlier.

Jim Gordon, decorated captain of the GCPD, saved some lowlife like him. Oh, how easy it would have been to just let him fall. Jim wouldn’t have had to offer an explanation. The citizens of Gotham would have been relieved to have the psychopathic maniac dead and gone once again; the sane citizens anyhow.

He chuckles lightly. Inside he is confused. Jimbo saved his life because he wanted to. After everything Jerome has done, the detective didn’t let him die. He doesn’t know what to make of it. People don’t just care about him like this. He’s grown accustomed to being the used and abused.

 

************************************

 

Jim makes his way down the hospital halls - a hesitation tugging in his heart. He shoud just turn around and go back to the precinct. Jerome is no longer his problem. He did his civic duty. But here he his. On his way to the kid's hospital room.

 

The pit knotting in his stomach grows more noticeable with every step closer. But the detective still continues. 

 

He sees an armed cop standing outside a room and approches giving the man a smile. 

 

"Detective Gordon." The cop tips his hat.

 

"Why don't you take a coffee break. I got this." Jim pats him on the shoulder.

 

He doesn't have to ask twice. "Yes, sir." The man nods and heads over to the snack machine, whistling.

 

Jim lets out a sigh and opens the door to the room. "Hello Jerome." He smirks, putting on his best, tough cop facade as he invites himself in.

 

Jerome smirks widely but his eyes convey malice. “Detective Gordon.” He blinks and slowly turns his head to stare off at the adjacent wall. “Why are ya here? Didn’t shoot me enough?” He laughs bitterly.

 

"Just here to gloat." Jim grins, walking over to Jerome's bedside. 

 

He pulls out the chair next to the bed and sits down, propping his feet up on the kid's tray table. 

 

"And to make sure you have no chance of escaping. Might stay a while." He smiles, putting his hands behind his head.

 

The detective has a good poker face, but Jerome does scare him a little. 

 

“To gloat?” Jerome inquires and sits up a little. He’s intrigued. He likes a good gloating, even if it is at his expense. “What could ya possibly have to gloat about?”

 

He cocks a brow as Jim props his feet up. He finds that oddly entertaining, seeing him so relaxed and smug. He hums, waiting for a reply. What he gets only irritates him. He hisses and rattles his cuffed arm harshly against the metal bar of the hospital bed. “Does it look like I’m fucking going anywhere?”

 

Jim chuckles. "What do I have to gloat about? Hmm. Let's see…" The detective sits back up, propping his elbows on his knees. "For starters, I foiled your plan. AGAIN. And uh…that sting in your chest you're probably still feeling…that was me too."

He keeps a cocky smirk, but deep down inside, he's really glad Jerome is cuffed to that bed. Not that those are enough to subdue Jerome completely. But it'd be long enough for him to reach for his gun at least.

 

"Yeah, it'd be a little difficult for you to make a grand escape cuffed to that bed, while on the highest floor of the hospital with an armed guard outside your door, but with you kid, I'm not taking any chances."

 

Jerome narrows his eyes at Jim as he leans forward. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Please! You didn’t foil nothing. I can promise ya that right now!” He’s livid. The detective certainly foiled his plan but he doesn’t necessarily have to let him know that for sure.

Jim looks at Jerome suspiciously through squinted eyes. Was there really more to his plan? Or is the kid bluffing? His buddies are all still on the loose, so who knows? There's really no telling with this maniac. He can't give Jerome the satisfaction though.

Jerome laughs at Jimbo in that raspy tone of his and chooses to bypass what he's saying in favor of getting down to what has really been bothering him.

 

“Ya know. The doc said I was lucky. Said that typically gunshot wounds to the sternum are fatal. You nearly killed me and then ya saved me. Why? I don’t understand. Nobody has ever cared enough about me to save me.” He sets his jaw angrily at the admission.

 

Jerome is beside himself that he actually muttered that out loud; for Jim to hear. He generally keeps his deep and personal emotions locked tight, but he knows that his recent reunion with his brother is bringing everything out. It’s making him vulnerable and he can’t have that. Not when he has come so far in Gotham.

   
The detective is completely taken aback. Did Jerome Valeska actually let his guard down? Jim definitely saw some vulnerability for just a second. Something he never thought he'd see.

 

Clearing his throat, Jim answers the question. "I honestly don't know." He shrugs. "You gonna make me regret that decision?"

 

“You fucking bet I will.” Jerome sneers. He’s sick of the smug look on the detective's face and he knows just how to wipe it off real quick.

 

 “I’m going to make sure that you spend every moment wishing you had let me die. I’ll never leave you.” He smirks. “Speaking of, how’s Lee been? I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen her.” He laughs. “I’m guessing you can say the same.”

 

Jim bites back a snarl. Jerome's disturbing promise isn't what gets him. No. It's the mention of Lee. Not just that, but the way the kid said it. He just has this terribly smug way about him. This slight little smirk in the corner of his scarred lips. Evil just radiates out of him.

 

The detective stands up, moving his jacket away from his hip so his gun is visible. A silent threat.

 

He leans down over Jerome, careful to keep his hand over the holster. "Keep her name out of your mangled mouth." Jim growls through grit teeth.

 

Jerome feels a stirring of excitement in the pit of his stomach due to the reaction he was able to pull from the detective. His eyes lave over his form as he leans down. He bites back a whimper as Jim speaks. It’s not the words, but the tone of voice used. 

 

He loves it when Jimbo gets angry. Even tempered, mellow Jim losing his cool because of the red head. It’s attractive. He shrugs and chuckles. “Sure, I’ll keep her name out of my mouth but that’s the only thing regarding her that won’t be going in my mouth.” He winks.

 

Jim feels a lump in his throat. Usually that's a sign of nervousness or fear. Not this time. This is anger. Rage even. 

 

He tries to keep his cool. To not give the little hellbrat the satisfaction. But that smirk….that little lip curl Jerome does when he knows he's got a fly in his web.

 

Jerome stares at Jim. He’s waiting for him to pounce, metaphorically speaking. What he didn’t count on was for Jim to literally pounce on him. He’s testing his patience at the moment and he knows it because that is what he is going for. It’s rare for him to see him all riled up and angry. It looks hot.

 

Something inside Jim snaps. His forearms grow tight as his fingers curl themselves into a grabbing position.

 

Before he even knows what's happening, he feels warm flesh underneath his tightening palms. Moral detective Jim Gordon is strangling Jerome with his bare hands - his thumbs pressing into the kid's windpipe. It's almost like something else has taken over him. Like it's involuntary. 

 

Now; as Jerome  stares up at Jim and gasps for air, he can’t help but to truly enjoy these turn of events. He coughs and his mouth raises into a devious smirk. “A little harder.” He rasps out before chuckling - tears prickle his eyes and slide down his cheek.

 

The teen's words temporarily snap Jim out of his trance. His grip loosens but his hands stay in place. He can't tell if the kid is serious or just toying with him.

He let's go of Jerome's throat, panting over him - a look of shock and disgust on his face.

"What the…." He scoffs. "What the fuck, did you just say?"

Jerome actually lets out an unwanted whine when Jim lessens the pressure on his neck. But when he releases his throat altogether, he glares at him with a look of venom swimming angrily in his orbs. 

 

“You heard me old man. I didn’t stutter. I want ya to choke me harder. Make me really feel it. I know ya have it in you. You’re so mad at me.” He fears his goading won’t work so he steps it up. “Or I could just ask Lee if she’ll come pleasure me.”

 

Jim's eyes are wild with anger and disbelief. It sounds an awful lot like Jerome is experiencing this choking in a different way than Jim intended. It's supposed to be a punishment, not be sexually satisfying. 

This can't be right though. No way. Jerome is not getting fresh with him right now. 

Although the glimmer in the kid's eye says differently. 

Jim sneers down at him in disbelief. "You're enjoying this?" He laughs bitterly. "You would, you sick fuck."

 

Jerome simply smirks up at him with a hint of pleasure taking up residence in his eyes. He will admit how much he he needs it but only if he has to. He bursts out laughing. “I’m a sick fuck all right.” 

 

The detective would normally be inclined to stop there after this revelation. But not after that comment about Lee. This kid needs to be taught a lesson.

 

He hops up on the bed with Jerome, Jerome watching delightedly - a flush creeping up on his cheeks.

 

Jim straddles the kid's legs, grabbing the little maniac by the collar as tight as he can and shaking him angrily. 

 

"You were saying?" He snarls, daring the kid to continue.

 

Jerome bites his bottom lip. “I was talking about darling Lee. Ooh! I bet she has it sweet on me. Remember the night you questioned me? I saw the way she looked at me. Fuck! I bet she was dripping in her panties. Mmmmm. Tell me. Was she wetter than usual when you fucked her that night.”

 

Oh how Jerome would have a field day if he knew that was the first night she actually slept with Jim after he'd tried many times to get her to.

 

Jim's fingers curl tighter into the fabric of Jerome's hospital gown, making his knuckles turn white.

 

Jerome breathes harshly as Jim clutches his hospital gown. He watches the realization fill the features of his face. Maybe he truly was onto something? Maybe Lee really did have a thing for him? At least that night. Maybe she really did fuck the daylights out of Jim while thinking of him?

 

He thinks about teasing the old man further, but the look on Jim's face is something he's never seen before. He can see it in Jim's eyes. The detective has snapped. He has Jim right where he wants him. He has literally won. He giggles. 

 

Jim takes a moment to ponder that night in the interrogation room. Much to his horror, he does remember Lee being oddly aggressive afterward. When they got in the car to drive back to Lee's place, she was all over him.

 

The detective's stomach sinks. His fingertips tingle and his head spins. He has half a mind to pull out his gun and make Jerome eat it. It's not that risky. Who would blame him?

 

He doesn't though. The kid's not worth it. But he's still beside himself with rage though. Something in him snaps.

 

He starts to chuckle. "So you like this, huh? You like it rough?"  

 

"Ooh! I do!" Jerome cackles wildly. His face lighting up with delight.

 

"Oh boy are you gonna get it then." Jim grits.

He let's go of Jerome's collar roughly and starts to unfasten his belt. 

 

"You know that saying 'Be careful what you wish for? Well today, you're gonna learn the hard way, kid." 

 

The detective rips his belt out of the loops  - eliciting a shaky moan from Jerome.

 

Jerome has the small thought that maybe, just maybe Jim'll choke him with it. It sends tingles through his body; his cock jumping. Sadly, Jim throws the discarded belt to the ground with a loud clank.

 

Before he can complain about that, the detective's  roughly trying to force him over onto his stomach. He cries out, sore from the gunshot wounds. “Fuck! Ya fucking shot me, remember?”

 

"Shut up!" Jim barks, shoving the side of Jerome's face into the pillow, making Jerome grunt. He has had it with the kid's shit.

 

Jerome's ass is up and wiggling, trying to get free, so the detective straddles the back of his legs to still him and starts to work open, the button on his pants. He zips his fly down slowly so the noise it makes lingers. As if to tell Jerome what's coming to him.

 

Jerome sighs breathlessly at the sound of the  zipper coming undone. He lets out a whimper as his face blushes.

 

"I've had it up to my ears with you, Jerome. It's time I straighten you out."

Jerome doesn’t know whether to cry out from the excitement of what Jim's about to do to him, or if he should be nervous because he has no clue what the detective plans to do.

Jim pulls his half hard cock out of his pants and clears his throat obnoxiously loud, gathering as much saliva as he can. He hawks it up into his hand and runs his wet palm up and down his length till he's as slicked up as he can get.

 

“Oh god.” Jerome's eyes roll back in his head at the sound of Jim hawking up his spit Something about it sounds so manly.

 

"I'm not prepping you." Jim grits out. "You don't deserve it."

 

“Wait.” Jerome furrows his brows and tries to glance back at him. “That’ll hurt.”

 

"Yeah." Jim chuckles. "It will." 

 

Jerome blinks rapidly. His mind is on high alert. It’s going to hurt, a lot. But a small inkling in him wants it.

 

Jim's not worried about it, anyways. He knows the kid'll like it. For the most part, anyhow.

 

The detective spreads the back of Jerome's gown apart, lining his cock up with his entrance. 

 

Jerome cranes his neck to watch the best he can. He's puckering up on instinct, slightly worried about how much it's going to hurt.

 

Jim lingers for a moment, rubbing the swollen head up against the tight ring of muscle, that's  already protesting. Just to taunt the kid before pushing in. Inching himself into the warmth of Jerome's body.

 

The feeling of Jim's cock head rubbing against Jerome feels good though. It takes everything in him not to swivel his hips back against that. 

 

His mind definitely relinquishes that thought as he's penetrated. It feels like he is being ripped apart. He tries to squirm away from it, but there is no use. Jim's hold on him prevents him from moving too much.

 

It feels like the air has been punched out of him and he cries out desperately against the pain. A couple of stray tears fall as an automatic response. He doesn’t want to get in trouble with the detective for being too loud so he clamps his teeth down into the top of his wrist. He bites as he clamps his eyes together. 

 

His skin is flushed and his legs keep trying to close on instinct. A part of him likes it. The feeling of Jim's thickness forcing it’s way inside him. He just wishes he didn’t have to be so careless about it.

 

Jerome's reaction has Jim feeling a little guilty. He overestimated the kid's pain tolerance. 

 

Sometimes he hates having such a strong moral code. He's almost jealous of Jerome's carefree, fearless ways. Must be nice to not have a conscience. He scoffs to himself. 

 

It is a little satisfying to hear Jerome's cries considering all the cold blooded atrocities he's commited. And the tight heat that's smothering his cock, sure as fuck is. But his conscience….  it still gets to him. 'Damn.'

 

He stills for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

 

"Ok, kid. I'm gonna slow down for now. But once you adjust, all bets are off. And that's more than you deserve." 

 

Jerome nods meekly. He can live with that. Once he adjusts, he’s ready for the pain. 

 

The detective exhales sharply, and slowly withdraws his hips, pausing for a second before gently pushing back in one inch at a time. 

 

Jerome cries out. He’s relieved. He’s all for being rough and pain but nobody likes pain during penetration. That hurts terribly. Especially since he had no prep at all.

 

Jim rocks his hips slowly from side to side instead of thrusting in and out, to help Jerome  open up to him. Even just the slow motions feel like heaven. Although he'd enjoy it more if he wasn't such a softie.

 

Jerome shudders and allows his hips to relax.  The detective's much more gentle this time, allowing the kid to open up around his girth easier.

 

“Mmmm!” The rocking of Jim's hips feels good and elicits moans from the ginger. He begins to push back against his hips. “Feels so much better.” He drops his head against his forearm.

 

Jim sneers. He knew the little hellbrat would start liking it soon, he just didn't expect this soon. That's good though. Now he has no reason to hold back.

 

He grips Jerome's hips as tight as he can - digging his thumbs into the kid's upper cheeks, and delivers a torrent of thrusts, that make the bed start to wheel forward - slick heat enveloping him till his eyes roll back. 

 

As much as he hates to admit it, he's turned on by the fact he's hate fucking Jerome Valeska. He's got Gotham's most dangerous criminal pinned underneath him, completely submissive - cock skewered and whimpering. Jim is in charge now. He has the upper hand. Jerome Valeska, the kid who's given him nothing but grief for three years, is now his bitch. It's delicious. Even though the little hellion's enjoying it.

 

Jerome releases a mixture of cries and moans; whimpering loudly as he feels Jim's  cock fucking him. He quite enjoys the feeling of warm thumbs pressing firmly into his ass. He hopes to god that there will be bruises left behind in the shape of Jim's prints.

 

Just the thought has him a shuddering mess. He has limited mobility due to being cuffed and his injuries but dammit he’ll die fucking himself back against the detective's torrent thrusts.

 

“Shit!” He sobs, drool spilling from the corners of his scarred mouth. He starts swiveling his hips, clenching his eyes through the pain. He doesn’t care. This feeling, this burning throbbing feeling of Jim's thickness buried deep inside him is well worth the risk of worsening his injuries.

 

The noises leaving Jerome's scarred mouth have Jim on a power trip.

 

A lot of them may be noises of satisfaction, but even so, it's gratifying. He still has Gotham's most dangerous criminal wrapped around his fingers right now. Submissive and whimpering like a lost puppy. 

 

He loves knowing that the power is all his and at any moment, he could withdraw himself and just go, leaving Jereome a blueballing, sniveling mess. And he would, except he doesn't want to. 

 

The kid's just so hot, and wet, and suffocating. He'd be cutting off his own nose to spite his face, if he quit before he finished.

 

Jerome's hips start to grow sweaty where Jim has his hands, making it a little harder to hold him properly. Or maybe it's Jim's palms that are sweating? Maybe it's both. But he keeps going anyway. Fast and rough - snapping his hips in this swiveling motion that makes the bed rock.

 

He's almost in a trance, but is quickly snapped back to reality with Jerome's words.

 

“Give it to me, daddy! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!”

 

Jim almost chokes on his own saliva. The detective doesn't completely stop his movements, but he does slow down - eyes growing wide - mouth hanging open, making Jerome crane his head in displeasure.

 

"Excuse you?!" Jerome scoffs.

 

He slams himself back against Jim's cock hard and fast, desperate to pick up the pace he’s no longer receiving from him. 

 

Jim can't help but chuckle to himself,  watching this dangerous criminal, wiggle with antsiness. It's nice to have the upperhand with Jerome for once.

 

He knew Jerome would enjoy this, and knew some taunting and dirty talk were a strong possibility, but he was not prepared for this.

 

He still has to make sure he heard him correctly though.

 

"Wha…what?" He stammers out.

 

Jerome laughs. “What’s the matter? Nobody ever called ya daddy before?” He teases as he glances at Jim with that shit eating grin. “Doesn’t surprise me that Lee never called ya daddy. I bet ya had vanilla sex with  her, didn’t ya, Jimbo?” 

 

Jim doesn't answer Jerome's question. He just furrows his brow, because it's true. Nobody has ever called him daddy. He just now realizes that it's kind of sad.The detective's pushing forty for Pete's sake.

 

His stomach sinks even further at the mention of Lee. The sex was vanilla. Very vanilla. He figures  that had something to do with how sophisticated and ladylike Lee was, but then he realizes sex has always been vanilla. With everyone.

 

He leans his head back in frustration, releasing a groan. 

 

Now he has to change this. This has to be the time it wasn't vanilla. The time he steps out of his comfort zone.

 

But before he can come up with a strategy,  the damn kid runs his mouth too far, and has Jim seeing red.

 

Jerome just has to take it a step further, knowing deep down that this is cruel. “Plus, it’d bring back haunting memories of the fact that you almost were a daddy. How did she lose the baby again?”

 

The kid's words hit him like a thousand knives and make his belly drop to his feet.

 

He can't believe Jerome would bring that up. He shouldn't be surprised. It is Jerome after all, but for some reason it is. It's almost like Jerome is trying to get Jim as angry as possible. The little masochist.

 

Now he doesn't even need a strategy. Now he's running on pure adrenaline. Seething with anger.

 

Jerome Valeska's gonna get it now.

 

Jim leans over off the edge of the bed as far as he can, managing to reach his belt.

 

Jerome had every intention of making Jim mad in the hope that he would take his frustrations out on his ass. But, he had no idea just how angry he was going to make him.

 

He supposes it makes sense. Jim loved Lee, he still loves Lee. He lost a child with her. It’s obviously something that would upset a normal human. But Jerome  is not that. 

 

He lays there and huffs impatiently as he wiggles his hips. He wants Jimbo to do something, hurt him. 

 

Jim moves fast, folding the belt in half. He raises it over his head, and brings it down on an unsuspecting Jerome, fast and hard making a whipping sound as it cuts through the air and comes down over Jerome's bare ass like a thunderclap. 

Be careful what you ask for.

Jerome's ass shakes, jiggling from the impact. He jolts forward and puckers up as he releases what sounds like a mix between a hiss and moan.

 

Jim flicks his tongue over his drying lips, running a hand through his messy hair - panting and disheveled. 

 

He smirks watching  the criminal squirm underneath him, and rubbing a thumb over Jerome's reddened skin, making the kid flinch on instinct. 

 

He already feels better. Frustration has been released. And maybe he's not so boring and ordinary after all.  He's tired of being good boy Gordon. It's time to let loose for once.

 

The detective looks down at the belt in his trembling hands, wondering what else he can do with it.

 

Jim gulps, slipping the belt over the front of Jerome's throat, squeezing it into a loop and pulling Jerome's head back. 

 

The kid's eyes widen at the tightening around his throat.

 

"Get up on your hands and knees." Jim barks.

 

Jerome moans, nodding the best he can as he gets into the commanded position. 

 

“What now, daddy?” His voice is raspier than usual, strained.

 

Jim's uncomfortably turned on by Jerome being so compliant. The way he looks sprawled on his hands knees, ready for him. That gravelly, growl like voice asking for more. The moral detective is not accustomed to such deviancy. He's already half way there. He may as well go the distance. Embrace his dark side.

 

Jerome spreads his legs apart slightly. He has never wanted something so bad in his life until this very moment.

 

He’s never wanted his mother’s love and attention this bad. He’s never wanted to take over Gotham this bad. But damn it if he doesn’t want Captain Jim Gordon’s cock back in him. He wants him to fuck him into the mattress.

 

The detective tugs the belt with one hand, making Jerome moan - the other moving up under the kid's chin, holding his head still. He slams his groin into the kid's backside with a grunt.

 

"How's this for vanilla?" He growls into Jerome's ear.

 

“Fucking god this is so good!” Jerome screams as Jim slams back into him. A smirk appears, making his elongated features stretch even more. “Mmmm.” He swivels his hips slightly. “Maybe you’re not so vanilla. We’ll call ya vanilla chocolate swirl.”

 

Jim chuckles out loud at that - anger still creeping in the back of his throat though.

 

He's realizing that hate fucking a clown like Jerome and holding onto one hundred percent of the hate, is more difficult than expected. 

 

The moaning and slamming back into the detective - the cracking wise. A part of Jim just wants to cave and flip him over on his back so he can watch Jerome's face while he fucks him. Maybe even kiss him a little. 

 

And maybe later, he will cave. But right now, he stays in the moment. This is too fun.

 

Jim continues a rhythm of withdrawing slowly, pausing, and slamming back into Jerome roughly. 

 

When Jerome is full to the hilt, he stills, releasing his hand from under the kid's chin - belt still tightly in place, and wraps his arm around the front of Jerome's stomach, pressing their bodies together as tightly as possible and eliciting a content sigh from the red head.

 

Feeling Jerome's stomach move in and out with his breathing, affects Jim a little. It's odd thinking of Jerome Valeska as human. 

 

Jim shakes his head, trying to clear it of such thoughts. 

 

He withdrawls again. Still slow and graceful, one last time, before an impatient Jerome begins swiveling his hips, fucking himself on the detective's cock. He can’t wait any longer for him to move inside him. The feeling of the handsome detective simply just splitting him apart isn’t doing it for him anymore. He needs raw friction. 

 

Jim gets the hint and rams back inside Jerome, starting up another torrent of rough thrusts - choking back moans from the slick heat choking his cock.

Jerome was unprepared for the onslaught of thrusts pistoling inside him in quick succession. “Uh-ahhhhh!” He chokes on a moan as spit dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. “Daddy!”

He stills himself and just takes what the older man gives him. Besides, he is finding that he's getting pleasantly numb from the constriction on his throat and so it's becoming more and more difficult to keep up pace with him.

He likes it. The swimming feeling. Knowing it is coming from his Jimbo, putting him in a head space. It’s even better because his nerves are alight. He can feel the older man fucking him far more prominently now compared to when his brain wasn’t fuzzy. 

 

Jim's starting to like this 'Daddy' business. He's never dabbled in this kink before, but something about knowing who it's coming from…Jerome Valeska - the most dangerous man the detective has ever come across. A cold blooded killer that would kill you as soon as look at you, is submitting to him completely. Writhing on his cock, calling Jim daddy. It's hard not to get caught up in that.

He gets caught up in everything. This whole situation. 

The detective's desire to kiss the redhead grows unbearably strong. It feels so strange to have sex with someone and not kiss them. Unnatural even.

Jim gulps, letting go of the belt and letting it fall to the floor. He places his hand to the side of Jerome's face, gently turning his head toward him.

When he's close enough to reach, he places the softest of pecks to Jerome's lips. A warm, lingering peck. No tongue yet. But that's why he lingers. Tests the waters.

The kiss to Jerome's lips. It’s a shock. It’s unexpected. It feels nice. His eyes widen. He’s never, in his life, been kissed; let alone shown affection.

He doesn’t know what to think of this or how to react. His face reddens deeper but this time it isn’t because he’s flushed from being dicked down by Jimbo. No. It’s because he’s embarrassed and flustered. He moans softly into the detective's mouth and gently moves his lips against his.

Jim smiles through the kiss, chuckling to himself. He was so unsure about kissing Jerome. It sounds silly considering he's eight inches deep in the kid's ass, but kissing is another story. More affectionate. (Arguably) More intimate.

He was afraid Jerome might think it's too mushy and sentimental. The detective is pleasantly surprised at his reaction. He can practically feel Jerome melting into the sheets.

Jim supposes it makes sense. The kid was starved for affection his whole life. Of course being kissed for the first time would have some sort of affect on him.

 

The detective parts his lips, slowly sliding his tongue into Jerome's mouth, playfully poking his tongue lightly.

Jerome allows Jim to control the kiss in what one may deem a complete surprise. He’s always the person in control but not right now. 

He likes this because it makes him feel protected and safe. Something he isn’t used to but also something his pride would never allow him to ask for openly.

Jerome is literally putty in Jim's hands right now. He moans desperately into his mouth as hot, wet tongues slides into his mouth. He ends up becoming more aggressive with his kissing, craving more.

 

Something about adding kissing into the mix leaves Jim feeling more passionate. Animalistic even.

This position is difficult for that though. His neck is starting to cramp. 

He swivels his hips again crashing into Jerome's backside, and moaning at the feel of his warmth.

“Detective! Fuck!” Jerome cries out as Jim smashes against him.

When Jim withdraws this time, he takes hold of his cock and pulls himself out all the way, immediately missing the warm hug of Jerome's body.

Jerome cranes his neck to glare back at Jim. He wants to be fucked and he wants it now. "What the fuck do ya think you’re doing?” He protests, already feeling a void.

Jim chuckles, allowing his lips to rest against the shell of his ear.

"Lie down on your back." He whispers breathlessly. 

 

Jerome's brows briefly raise and he softly gasps before nodding. This will be different, but his arms will be in a better position. 

He turns over, ignoring the throbbing pain from his injuries and Jim's cock. He lies back and gets comfortable before staring up at Jim, blinking as his breathing quickens. This has a more intimate feel to it. He doesn’t care. As long as Jim still fucks him hard. He wants it.

His legs spread and he reaches out for the detective with his uncuffed hand. “Daddy!”

Jim grins down at him, starting to loosen his tie.

Having sex fully clothed felt appropriate at first considering the circumstances of how this romp came to be. But now things have changed. Now it doesn't feel intimate enough. 

Jim flings his tie onto the chair and works the buttons on his shirt open, shrugging out of it and letting it fall behind him on the bed.

Jerome allows his eyes to rake over Jim's body. He reaches out with his free hand and touches any part of him he can reach. His eyes shine brightly, shimmering with excitement.

He actually shakes from the excitement of it all, seeing his detective's skin revealed to him.

The way Jerome looks at him, makes Jim's stomach flutter.

Nobody's looked at him like that in a long time. Like he's everything. 

“Jimmy. Ya gonna speed it up and put it on-“ Jerome gasps as Jim's hand slides beneath his back, untying his hospital gown. 

"Relax, kid. I'm getting there."

The detective pulls it off of him with ease and flings it over the side of the bed, so it dangles from Jerome's cuffed wrist and is out of his way.

He cocks a brow at the sight of the kid. He never realized how built Jerome was. He's always hiding under those outrageous outfits.

What a pleasant surprise. 

Jerome blushes heatedly as he is now fully exposed to Jim. “You’re staring.” He says timidly. “Is this okay? Am I okay?”

The detective gulps. He didn't mean to stare and now he's embarrassed. He clears his throat.

"Yeah. More than ok." 

Jerome smiles, bottom lip jutting out as his mouth is agape. He’s relieved. He never understood why people would be so weird when it came to someone seeing their body. He can parade around naked all he wants. He’s never been in a setting like this before. This is different. 

"Ya big softie.” He chuckles in an effort to dispel his own embarrassment. He stares down with lust filled eyes as you slick your cock back up before pushing back inside up.

Jim spits in his palm once more and rubs it along his length, slicking himself up for re - penetration. 

He chuckles scoffingly. I'm not too big a softie, now." He smirks giving a hard thrust into Jerome, making the bed nudge forward slightly. 

His eyelashes flutter as his cock pushes itself back into Jerome's welcoming heat.

Jerome grunts and moans, eyes squinting and free hand grabbing the older man's back tightly. 

Jim leans down hovering over Jerome's lips, delving his tongue back into his mouth, kissing him passionately. Like he means it. Slow and languid, yet rough - Jerome smiling into the kiss.

He starts to swivel his hips, circling his cock around inside the kid.

Growls and moans spill from Jerome's mouth into Jim's. “Jimmy!”

Jim withdraws slowly, deliberately teasing the kid, and slams back in again, obnoxiously, starting a pace of quick rough thrusts - Jerome purring and crying out. “Fuck, Jimmy. Give it to me!” 

The sound of Jerome calling his name, affects Jim more than he would expect. That gruff, raspy voice crying 'Jimmy' with that hint of whimper behind it. Fuck. 

As if the tight heat, suctioning his cock wasn't enough to make him crazy with lust. Now this. And the long fingers digging into his back isn't helping.

Jerome is actually really enjoying this intimate angle. He gets to watch Jim. He reaches up with his free hand and curls his long fingers around his bicep, gripping. “Not too soft. Hard and rugged.”

Jim is getting close. He's teetering on the edge and every slide into Jerome's tight ring of muscle brings him closer.

Jerome whimpers as the pace of Jim's thrusts increase and he becomes a sobbing, broken mess. He lifts his hips in response to him. He’s getting close himself. He just needs a little nudge to bring him over the edge.

Jim quickly spits in his hand and reaches down in between Jerome's legs, taking hold of his cock. The fleshy weight is warm and heavy in his hand. An oddly satisfying feeling.

He closes his fist around Jerome and drags it up the length of his cock - circling his thumb over the slit when he reaches the top.

Jerome throws his head back as he releases a shuddering gasp. “Fuck! Like that!” He bucks into Jim's hand, grinding down against his thrusts. He moans loudly, hand clutching Jim's upper back. 

Oh boy, is Jim loving this. Jerome moaning. Complimenting him. Begging to get off. And to think this started as a punishment for Jerome. 

The sudden turn it has taken is actually more satisfying than Jim could've imagined.

Seems like he hasn't smiled this much in a while. It's nice.

The detective continues his thrusts - quick snaps of his hips crashing into Jerome's backside. 

He juts his fist up and down Jerome's length faster, reveling in the feel of the hot flesh, squishing through his fingers - a warmth pooling in his gut.

Jim squeezes Jerome's cock tighter, dragging his palm upward and starting a gentle twisting motion as he makes his way back down.

Jerome can feel how close he's getting. The familiar feeling that he has only ever felt through masturbation is pooling in his lower abdomen. It’s so much stronger with someone inside him; a thick, warm cock fucking him raw. 

Jim loves the fact that he's the first one to ever touch the boy there.

It's too much. His head swirls as the warmth in his belly spreads through his groin making him spasm and constrict inside Jerome, spilling into him in hot spurts, eliciting a whine from the boy underneath him.

The almighty, moral detective Gordon just came inside the worst criminal Gotham has ever seen. 

Jerome's eyes widen and his mouth falls open. That’s a feeling he never imagined. He slams his hips against Jim, chasing his own release.

“Shit!” He cries out as his cum spurts out of his swollen cock. It coating Jim's hand and shooting upward, getting his and the detective's abdomen, sighing contentedly as he comes down from his orgasm.

Seeing Jerome Valeska, a whiny, moaning mess is quite a sight to behold.

The kid fucked himself on Jim's cock and mewled like an injured animal. Jim has to resist the urge to chuckle in amusement. 

It's so odd seeing the normally bloodthirsty ginger, come undone. And for him no less. For the detective that's stood in his way for over three years. His arch nemesis. 

The thought is so hot, if Jim hadn't just finish coming, he'd be coming right now. 

Jim releases Jerome from his grip and rubs his wet, sticky fingers together, feeling the cum coat them.

He enjoys this much more than he expected. The thought that he made Jerome come like that and that he was the first one to do it, is overwhelmingly hot.

The detective grabs Jerome by the face, and kisses him once again, rough and sloppy - moaning into his mouth.

Jerome wraps his arm around Jim, squeezing him tightly. He’s never felt so safe in his life. That was probably the best feeling he’s ever had and he experienced it with Jim Gordon of all people. 

He gets a sinking feeling. Soon his detective will be out of him, gone, and acting like this never happened. For now, he’ll enjoy his current time with him.

Jim savors the fevered kiss, clashing his tongue together with Jerome's. 

He's sweaty and tingly, still coming down from the high of his orgasm.

The feeling's nice, but it can't last. Jerome's in police custudy, and he'll be in Arkham as soon as the bullet wounds Jim gave him, heal enough.

That reminds Jim. He's the reason the kid's in the hospital. Of course he's also the reason the kid's alive.

Jerome doesn’t want the kiss to end. It can’t. His lips move against Jim's languidly. He feels like he is floating on air. It’s heated yet it feels so passionate and loving. He’s about to explode.

His lungs are burning in the most deliciously beautiful way. He feels on top of the world. He brings his free hand up to card through Jim's sweaty hair. 

 

Jim starts feeling bad about how their little romp came to be.

Sure everything turned out great in the end - both men having a good time, but the detective's intentions had not started out good. Quite malicious even.

He parts his lips from Jerome's and gives a nervous gulp.

Jerome's eyes shine and he stares into eyes. He is vaguely aware of the nervousness, the sudden change in tone. He thinks it’s because you’re finally coming to your senses and regretting fucking him.

 

"Are you ok?" Jim asks - the concern in his voice, genuine. "I mean…. I was a little…. forcefull." Saying it loud makes his stomach sink.

Jerome blinks softly when the detective finally let slip what’s really making him so nervous. He chuckles. “Yeah, nothing I’m not used to.”

Jim sighs in relief. He's not normally so vengeful. Jerome Valeska tends to bring that out in him.

He chuckles a little, feeling better about things, and coming to terms with what just happened.

His eyes dart around the room. The temperature's raised several degrees. Both men are sticky and sweaty. There's clothes strung around the floor, and the whole room reeks of sweat and sex.

Jerome struggles to catch his breath. The feeling to be close to Jim overwhelming him in this now stuffy room. He allows his free hand to move over any inch of his skin he can reach.

"Oh boy. Look at this place. It looks like my room in high school." Jim pants out a breathy laugh.

Jerome bursts out giggling only to be cut off with a big, wet peck to the lips.

“Ya saying ya had a lot of hook ups in high school, Jimbo?”

The detective hops off the bed to grab the articles of clothing that were carelessly thrown about in the heat of passion, slipping his suit jacket back over his shoulders, with an amused smile. "No. Just that I was a slob." He chuckles. 

The detective is trying to keep the mood lightened considering the very major events that just transpired. 

There's a thick tension in the air, that both men have desperately tried to pretend isn't there.

“You? A slob? Please.” Jerome vaguely attempts his own hand at stifling the awkwardness. 

Jim smiles, but feels especially weird, leaving Jerome handcuffed to that bed, but really what can he do? If he freed Jerome and told the police the kid knocked him out and escaped, any harm Jerome causes, will be on Jim. He'll have blood on his hands. He has to do the right thing.

He walks over to Jerome, placing a few fingers underneath his chin, and pressing a soft peck to his jagged, scarred lips.

Jerome's heart sinks, knowing Jim will soon be gone, and he'll be stuck here, cuffed and ready to be shipped off to Arkham. 

"Put me on your vistors list, kiddo." Jim gives a warm smile and a playful wave, as he walks toward the door.

Jerome chuckles breathlessly and nods. “You’ll be at Be top.” He shouts out, frowning at the heavy thud the door makes as it closes behind Jim.

His fingers brush over the scarred lips that now feel so soft and delicate. Jim kissed him, many times. He will be the first to admit that he was terrified at first. He had never had sex before, never thought he would actually. He knows he was testing the detective. Jim's just so hot when he pushes his buttons. But he didn’t expect to strike that type of nerve.

It turned out for the best. Jim fucked him good, he’ll feel it for a while. That’s something he can focus on in Arkham. The feeling of his Jimbo's cock inside him. He quietly moans. He’ll be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Smut in the next chapter. See ya real soon ;)


End file.
